


Hate Unabating

by Sohotthateveryonedied



Series: Whumptober 2019 [5]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Murder, Pedophilia, Prompt: Gunpoint, but like, justified murder, not graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-12-01 21:30:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20905121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sohotthateveryonedied/pseuds/Sohotthateveryonedied
Summary: “In the wise words of the Green Arrow,” Jason says with a smirk that dear old Tony can’t see, “you have failed this city by being a raping, pedophilic dirtbag.”





	Hate Unabating

**Author's Note:**

> Day 5: Gunpoint
> 
> Title taken from "Revenge is Gonna be Mine" from the OUAT musical episode because I was listening to the soundtrack when I wrote this so yeah.

****"Come on, man, I don’t even—I don’t know what you’re_ talking _ about!”  
  
“You sure about that?” The Red Hood releases the safety on his pistol with a click that echoes through the warehouse. The dirtbag whimpers, shaking where he stands. “Need me to jog your memory?”  
  
Jason’s got him against the wall at the back of the warehouse—cornered, with nowhere to run. Tony Moratti is the scummiest of scum; a well-known lawyer whose reputation is as pristine as the mirror he shaves by in that expensive mansion of his.  
  
Not even his wife knows that he’s been using all that well-earned cash to hire prostitutes of the underaged variety on the side.  
  
“In the wise words of the Green Arrow,” Jason says with a smirk that dear old Tony can’t see, “you have failed this city by being a raping, pedophilic dirtbag.”  
  
“I never did that, I swear! I’d never touch a kid!”  
  
Jason growls, stepping closer and shoving the barrel of the gun under the man’s jaw. “Don’t lie to a man holding a gun, Tony. You should know better than that by now.”  
  
Moratti is crying now—big, fat crocodile tears as his eyes cut from the pupil-less gaze of Jason’s helmet to the gun under his chin. “Okay, okay! I’m sorry, a’right? I didn’t mean anything by it, but—but no one got hurt, right?”  
  
Jason remembers coming home that night—just a kid and no taller than a Doberman—his body aching as dried tears crusted under his eyes. He remembers showering that night, wanting to scrape his own skin off until there was no part of him left.  
  
Wanting to throw the money he’d “earned” straight into the Gotham Sound, but his empty stomach and the lack of heat in that tiny apartment were too persistent. Remembers hiding the hickies from his mom, even though she was so high she never would have noticed anyway.  
  
Jason’s silence scares the guy more than his growls ever could. Until Jason grits out, “No one. Got. Hurt?” Trembling, Moratti nods.  
  
Jason’s gun clatters to the floor, and Moratti looks relieved until the first hit lands, right on the side of his jaw. He falls to the ground, back slamming against the concrete wall, and the blows don’t stop.  
  
Blood spurts from the man’s nose, and Jason relishes in the feeling of cartilage crunching under his knuckles. By the time he stops, Moratti’s face is colored six shades of blue and purple, and he’s missing his front tooth.  
  
Jason’s first knuckle stings even through the glove. _ There it is, _ he realizes absently. The symphony of blood dripping onto the floor has never sounded so good. It’s goddamn Mozart.  
  
Moratti chokes on the blood in his throat and manages to shout amidst sobs, “What did I ever _ do _ to you?” He’s holding his nose, tears spilling unchecked from those dark eyes that Jason will never be able to forget for as long as he lives.  
  
_ “Good evening. How much?” _  
  
_ “Damn, you sure are a looker, aren’t ya kid?” _  
  
_ “This your first time? Don’t worry, baby, I’ll make sure to be real gentle.” _  
  
With a raged cry, Jason unhooks the lock mechanism on his helmet and tears it off, hearing it clank a few feet away. “You ruined my goddamn _ life, _ you piece of shit!”  
  
He remembers moving into the manor, staying up for hours every night with a kitchen knife under his pillow—terrified that Bruce would make him pay for his accomodations sooner or later. Taking all the rage and pain he didn’t know what to do with out on the very same scummy men he used to see picking up other kids like him—kids with nothing to lose and food and shelter to gain.  
  
Kids who were never quite right after. Who couldn’t have a sleepover with friends because _ what if, what if, what if? _ Who could never admit it to their adoptive father what happened to fuck them up so badly because _ Robin is strong. Robin doesn’t get beaten down by anything, right? _  
  
Kids who were the victims of disgusting, evil men like Moratti, who took what they wanted and didn’t give a shit that they would be damaging an innocent child for the rest of their life. And—on the rare, unfortunate occasion—even longer.  
  
“I don’t even know you!” Moratti cries, throwing up his hands. Like that would stop a bullet.  
  
And Jason smiles. It’s all teeth, all ferocity, and no mercy. Eyes not leaving his victim, he feels around the floor for his gun. When gloved fingers curl around cold metal, his grin grows wider. He lifts the gun so the muzzle rests against the man’s forehead.  
  
Moratti gulps visibly, sweat beading on his brow as he stares into cold, unforgiving green eyes. “Please,” he begs. “Please, if—if you let me go, I won’t touch another kid again. I swear it!”  
  
Taking a moment to consider the plea, Jason lifts the gun away. Moratti lets out a relieved breath, shaking all over. Until Jason leans in close, so his mouth hovers just near the man’s ear. “You’re right,” he says.  
  
He lifts the gun again. “You won’t.”  
  
“Wait!”  
  
He pulls the trigger. 

**Author's Note:**

> [Feel free to mosey on down to my Tumblr!](http://sohotthateveryonedied.tumblr.com/)


End file.
